


Three-Seventy-Five Degrees

by nintendonut1



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Baking, Fluff and Angst, Food, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Post-The Eleventh Hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9870500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nintendonut1/pseuds/nintendonut1
Summary: Watching ingredients move between hands that weren’t his allowed him to just focus on the recipe he’d done a thousand times before.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the notion provided by Travis that Magnus takes baking lessons from Taako. Pure fluff, sugary sweet, please enjoy~!
> 
> (spoilers for the Eleventh Hour arc, takes please between then and the Suffering Game)

Two cups of all-purpose flour. Half a teaspoon of baking soda. A teaspoon of sea-salt. Three-fourths cup of melted butter. Half cup of sugar. One cup of _brown_ sugar. Two eggs. Two tablespoons of vanilla extract. And bagful of semisweet chocolate chips.

It was the easiest recipe in the world, and Taako for the life of him could not get it started.

The elf was staring at the oven before him, every carefully-measured ingredient set aside on the counter, ready to go. The apron was tied tightly around his waist, his mess of hair was all pulled back into a ponytail, and the essential wooden spoon was in his hand, ready to go. Everything was _ready to go_.

But as the stovetops seemed to stare back menacingly, it appeared the once-proud chef was not ready at all.

_Good god it’s no big deal_ , he internally berated himself, thumbnail digging into the polished wood of the spoon. _You managed the macaroons. This’ll be infinitely easier._

He forced out a puff of air, cheeks deflating. _Easy treats for your easy-to-please buddies. Post-dying-a-trillion-times self-care treats. They deserve it._

The spoon twisted between his nervous hands. _YOU deserve it._

Taako let out a different kind of breath, a staggered sigh. “…it wasn’t even your _fault_ , you dweeb.”

“Whose fault was what?”

The wizard nearly jumped out of his skin and right into the Astral Plane.

Magnus immediately had his hands raised up defensively as Taako turned an angry, but mostly startled, glare in his direction, long ears pointed up high in alert. His ponytail was resting on his shoulder from how fast he turned around.

“Whooooaaa hey, chill out, buddy! If it’s my fault I’m sorry--“

“ _What_ is your damage,” Taako demanded.

“Nothing!!” His hands, and his defensive demeanor, dropped the moment he took in the scene. “Oh dude are you making cookies?”

“--I’m not _making_ anything.” The elf turned back to the oven stiffly.

“Well, I mean, not right this second, yeah,” Magnus agreed, standing beside him to look over his adversary. “I mean it looks like you’re busy trying to start the stove fires with your _mind_ or something.”

The elf scoffed. “Don’t give me ideas.”

A expectant silence followed, and Taako crossed his arms defiantly. “And I use _spell slots_ , not my mind, idiot.”

“Same diff.”

A snort, and a narrowed glance at his enemy. “…I could Firebolt this thing into oblivion if I wanted to.”

He could _feel_ the incredibly sincerely incredulous smirk on Magnus’ stupid face. “You can’t make cookies in oblivion, doofus.”

“I am _not making cookies_ , Magnus.”

“Then what’s all that?!” A big, scarred-up arm broke in between his staring contest with the oven to point at the ingredients nearby. “And all _this?!?_ ” His gestures turned in Taako’s direction, namely to his deeply-stained apron. “What am I supposed to make of all that??”

An ear flicked angrily. “You’re supposed to get out of my kitchen and mind your own goddamn business.”

That low, toothy growl was enough to get Magnus to falter, and the irate silence that followed left the elf in a confusing mix of vindictiveness and guilt. Maybe it was a bit much, sure, over cookies for fuck’s sake, but still. Still!!!

And then the human surprised him with a defiant look of his own. “…fine. Then _I’ll_ make cookies.”

Taako went through a lapse in thought and only came to once Magnus actually turned towards the hated oven to get started. “What. No. No get _out_.”

“This is _our_ communal kitchen, y’know,” he most annoyingly pointed out, reaching for the big bowl. “You can’t kick me out of here. It’s my space, just as much as its yours.”

The elf chef sputtered a non-response.

“Hey, you left all this stuff out, I’m just gonna put it to use if you won’t.”

Speechless, Taako simply stood in place, watching as Magnus looked over his workspace, _Taako’s_ workspace, preparing for the task he was rushing right into, without hesitation. He set the oven to preheat, and, almost lovingly, brought each ingredient closer to inspect, evaluate, and get started.

It was so easy for him. He was _ready to go_.

Except when he gave pause, empty bowl still in hand, and the confidence started to leave his posture. “…um.”

“…grab the butter and both the sugars.”

Magnus gave him a fleeting glance, and then did as he was told. “Right, right…!”

“Mix them up ‘til they’re well-blended.” Taako stepped forward to watch him better, unsure what he was even _doing_ but his mouth was currently on auto-pilot.

“Uh huh, uh huh--“

“Okay stop, that’s good enough. Add in the eggs and vanilla and beat the mixture ‘til it looks creamy.”

Magnus cracked the eggs haphazardly, and he whipped the egg beater through the concoction a bit too harshly, perhaps, but Taako wasn’t going to stop him. “Alright, alright cool, what’s next?”

“Put it aside, you’re gonna use the sifter to mix the flour, baking soda and salt--agh.” He did, however, lean over to adjust the oven, without thinking. “Set it to three-seventy-five, not three-fifty.”

“What, there’s a difference?”

“Huge difference, my man. Also put on a hair net, for god’s sake, this recipe does not call for dandruff.”

“Hahah, ew!! Right!”

* * *

 

The next five minutes came to him as easy as breathing. Watching ingredients move between hands that weren’t his allowed him to just focus on the recipe he’d done a thousand times before. The challenge was relaying it to his impromptu sous-chef, but as inexperienced as he was, Magnus was genuinely eager and obedient and followed each step as instructed, with as much graceful bumbling as to be expected from the man.

He almost, _almost_ , reminded Taako of someone else. Someone he decisively did _not_ want to think about. Just focus. Focus on the recipe.

When they reached the baking step, he finally decided that his once loyal assistant wouldn’t be caught dead kneeling in front of the oven, watching the dough rise in rapt, giddy attention. The human was also spotted with a stupid amount of flour in only a way Magnus Burnsides could ever be.

“They’re almost ready,” he mumbled for the millionth time in fourteen and a half minutes.

“Uh huh.”

“They smell _so good_ , Taako, I’m so psyched.”

“Yeah… yeah.”

Magnus was on his feet the moment the timer went off. Taako had to stop him from grabbing the pan with his bare hands.

Once plated and placed on the dining table, the elf and the human took their seats, and each took one chunky cookie into hand. Magnus clearly enjoyed his first bite (easy to please, of course), but the rest of it dangled in his mouth as he watched Taako, about to bite into his own. He was obviously waiting for the _expert’s_ reaction.

It crumbled in his teeth. “…mmm.” It was _okay_. The consistency was off, but the comforting flavor was still there. “… _Sweet_. Not bad for your first try, Magnus.”

The human’s wide grin, somehow, made it seem sweeter. A kind of magic he was not used to.

“Thanks, Taako,” Magnus replied, inhaling the rest of his first cookie and grabbing his second. “Woulda probably been better if _you_ made ‘em, but…”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do that for a while, bucko.”

Both of them seemed startled by the elf’s sudden honesty. Taako let that stew as he thoughtfully chewed through his first helping, still.

Thankfully, Magnus did not pry. He never was one to. Instead, he made offers.

“…then I guess I’ll need more Baking Training from you, huh?”

“Do not call it ‘training’ ever again and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

His grin was very close to knowing, but the elf didn’t mind as much. “Gotcha.”

**Author's Note:**

> Finally managed to write this out thanks to encouragement from @goodnicepeople , stayed up late like a fool again but WORTH IT this came out pretty alright


End file.
